Hamilton: A Christmas Carol
by ILoveCheetos-and-AteIsa
Summary: "The spirits. They have seen you acting in a way that would surely lead to your doom."
1. Prepare Yourself

Written By my friend, AteIsa

**A/N: Ayoyoyo! I know it's not Christmas, but I really liked this idea. **

**I see a lot different renditions of Charles Dickens' story, "A Christmas Carol" and thought, "Hey, why not I make a Hamilton version?" **

* * *

Christmas time was nearing. People in the streets were frolicking in the snow happily, excitedly embracing the magic within the air. It was a beautiful thing, to see children playing, and parents watching them with a strict, yet loving eye; or otherwise joining in on the fun. Couples who had yet to marry gave each other sickeningly lovesick looks, while the older ones attempted to give some of the unluckily caught ones advice.

But, inside a quite large house, Alexander Hamilton sat at his office, where he usually sat most of the day. He was writing again, ignoring the ticking clock that was trying to tell him it was about dinner time. He paused on the word, "Indifferent", then held his numb fingers over the candle, which soothed the numbness greatly and brought the feel in them back. He shook them with a sigh through his nose, then picked up the quill again and resumed writing.

The door to his study opened, and Hamilton, in the irritated voice he was used to using whenever someone disrupted his work, groaned, "How many times must I-?"

But in the doorway was not, like he had assumed, any of his children. It was, in fact, his housekeeper. She was a quite elderly woman, who had no husband nor children. She seemed to straighten herself boldy as she stepped inside to say, "Sir, I apologize for interrupting your work, but I have a.. A bit of a request."

Hamilton rolled his eyes at the ceiling, turning away from her. "I'm assuming you want to have a day off tomorrow and tonight so you can celebrate Christmas with your relatives. Am I correct?"

The housekeeper adjusted her dress nervously. "I—yes, sir." She nodded, sounding for all the world that she was negotiating the terms of surrender.

Hamilton sighed and turned back to his work.

The housekeeper stepped forward into the room, gathering her determination and will and setting it clear in front of him. "It's almost Christmas, sir, and I would like to celebrate it with my sister and brother, who live across the city, just at the end of it. I would like to make the travel tonight, so I can save time-"

"Ugh, very well." Hamilton snapped. He wrote another word and turned to the housekeeper, who was barely containing her glee and triumph.

"But the day after tomorrow, you have to come here immediately, and earlier than usual. My wife is planning a party, and I do not want to have to have a messy house for more than a night."

The housekeeper nodded vigorously, already tightening her grip on the bag Hamilton hadn't noticed she was holding. She really must have not been planning to take no for an answer.

Thanking him heartily, she walked out of the room, pulling the door with her, but not enough for it to actually click closed. The door swung open again, and Hamilton had to stand to properly shut it again.

Finally, he returned to his work. Barely a minute later, he was interrupted again. He opened his mouth to tell off whichever of his children decided to disturb his writing, but it was, once again, not any of his children: it was his wife, Eliza.

She was giving him a reproachful look. "It's dinner time, Alexander."

Hamilton sighed at his letter, then turned to his wife, who was crossing her arms. "I just need to finish up my work, Eliza, I'm going to be down soon."

Eliza was silent for a moment. She stared into the fire with a sadness in her eyes. "It's Christmas Eve, Alexander." She sighed. "Are you not going to stop working to celebrate it with us? With your family?"

Hamilton grumbled. "Its a waste of time." Was all he muttered, glaring at the fireplace as well now.

Eliza took in a sharp intake of breath. Hamilton turned sharply towards her in time to see her hurt expression, right before she smoothed it out to one of indifference.

She took a deep breath again, then scowled, "Everyone's going through hard times, Alexander. It's our first Christmas without Philip! And you're not making it any easier." She hissed between tightly grit teeth.

Hamilton licked his lips, realizing now that he had gone much too far, but before he could say anything, Eliza tossed her hair and turned to leave the room.

"Oh, and I forgot to tell you," Eliza called back to him, her back still turned. "I invited Burr, Jefferson, and Madison to the party as well."

Hamilton's jaw dropped. She _what?_

He stared at her, taken completely aback, but before he could protest, Eliza slammed the door closed with a loud slam. The wood at the edges of the doorframe splintered slightly.

Hamilton slumped, letting his head fall into his hands.

Later that night, when Hamilton went down to finally have some dinner, he found, to his shock, that everyone was gone. His plate wasn't even left on the table. He sighed to himself tiredly, then went back up to his and Eliza's bedroom, no longer feeling hungry.

Suddenly, he remembered that he had accidentally left his quill out of his ink pot. He felt that it wasn't really important to put it in right now, because he felt much too exhausted to go through the trouble, but a sudden, overwhelming urge made him, against his will, turn around and go back to his office.

Once he closed the door behind him, he found that he finally regained control of his body. He felt alarm pickle at the back of his neck, and he glanced around him warily to try to figure out the source of his sudden impulse.

Shrugging it off, he placed the quill back where it belonged, and the moment the quill hit the bottom of the pot, a voice behind him spoke.

"I thought I'd never get you back in here, son."

Hamilton froze. The prickling alarm heightened at an alarming rate, and Hamilton slowly spun on his heel. What he saw made him gasp in horror, causing him to tumble down onto his bottom in shock.

George Washington was standing right before him.

Hamilton stared with his mouth wide open as this remnant of Washington smiled at him, stepping closer.

Hamilton scrambled backwards in alarm, only stopping when he felt the top of his desk come into contact with his head violently.

A slightly see-through arm offered him a hand, and Hamilton stared at it, then up at the former president of the United States.

"M-Mr. Washington, sir." Hamilton whispered, staring at his face. "You- how-"

Washington shushed him, reaching out and pulling Hamilton to his feet.

Hamilton felt himself flushing terribly, and it seemed to make Washington chuckle. He seemed quite amused to see his former secretary's reaction to seeing a literal ghost. He ceased his chuckling enough to say, "It's alright, son, you may drop the formalities. I honestly don't see why it would be necessary, anyhow, seeing as I'm, well, dead."

Hamilton worked his mouth furiously. "B-but, how-?"

Washington looked him in the eyes, his expression contorting to seriousness. "Alexander, I think you should be asking 'Why'."

Hamilton gaped dumbly, then echoed, "Why—?"

He shook himself, gaining control of his emotions and feelings. He repeated what he just said, "Why?" Much more coherently. "Why are you here?"

Washington nodded, then sighed a sigh that sounded eerily familiar. He looked disappointed. "Alexander, you have been wasting too much time."

Hamilton stopped, then stared at him in bewildered irritation.

"How so, sir?" Hamilton asked, his lips turning downwards in a frown. "I have been working hard ever since you.. Passed. I don't see how _I_ have been wasting time."

Washington rose an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yes!" Hamilton said, flinging his arms up into the air. "All I'm trying to do is finish my work for the good of my country! Yet, others just insist on stopping for the sake of Christmas!"

Hamilton seemed furious. Washington's eyebrows furrowed into a familiar, disappointed grimace, but Hamilton continued ranting, "I could barely even come home without various different people telling me "Merry Christmas", or getting nearly hit by a dozen snowballs! Do they not see how important my work is? Besides, they should be working, too, when death could come_ at any minute!_"

Hamilton heaved in frustration, pounding his fist onto his desk.

Hamilton glared down at his fist, until he suddenly felt something cold go straight through his shoulder. Hamilton stiffened, and he felt himself being turned around.

Washington looked at his hand, puzzled, then gave him an apologetic look, pulling his arm out of Hamilton's shoulder. "Sorry. I have no control over this." He then turned serious. "Alexander, you've been wasting the time you have with your _family_. Its incredible, actually, that you haven't realized it."

Hamilton stared at him as if he had been slapped across the face.

"Listen to me. You have been making poor choices concerning your family. I don't care about this country anymore; I only care for the people within it. You are the one we are focusing on."

Hamilton was silent, processing this information. Then he blinked, "We?"

Washington solemnly nodded. "The spirits. They have seen you acting in a way that would surely lead to your doom."

Washington suddenly became paler, and he stared down at himself. In a rush, he said, "I haven't much time. Prepare yourself, Alexander. They're coming."

Hamilton reached for his hand. "Sir, don't leave me!"

Washington's legs had begun to fade. He smiled at Hamilton sadly, and said, "It'll all come together soon, son, just.. I really hope you learn your lesson."

Hamilton's hand went straight through Washington's, and he stared at him. "Sir.." He hesitated, then mumbled, "I'm sorry, for everything."

Washington smiled. "I forgive you, Hamilton."

As he faded away, he said, "It was nice to see you again, son, one last time."

Then, like a gush of wind, he was gone.

Hamilton stared for a long moment at where he had just seen the man who, for some reason, considered him a son. And in return, Hamilton had yelled at him on more than one occasion. He felt guilt tear away at his heart, and he looked down at his feet sadly. He saluted to where his former General and President had stood. He felt it was high time he went to bed now, so he exited his study, glancing warily behind him, and journeyed to his sleeping quarters.

Eliza was already asleep, or perhaps just pretending to be. Quickly changing into a more comfortable set of clothes, Hamilton slid into bed beside his wife. He had an overwhelming urge to wake her up and talk to her about what just happened, but decided against it. He was too exhausted to argue.

He lay down and slid under the soft covers, wiggling his toes into the bed. The moment his head came into contact with his down pillow, he fell asleep.


	2. Old Wounds

Hamilton sat up suddenly, as if he had been shocked by lighting, or doused by a cold bucket of ice.

He glanced around him in confusion and rubbed his eyes, which were covered with the remnants of sleep. When he re-opened them, he found an almost blindingly beautiful woman standing at the foot of his bed.

Hamilton blanched, then yelped loudly, scrambling backwards noisily. Somehow, Eliza did not stir, but that was not what he was worried about at the moment.

Hamilton rubbed his eyes again, blinking them closed hard and deliberately, then opened them again.

But the strange woman remained.

Hamilton felt paralyzed with fear as he stared into the eyes of this.. This ghost.

The ghost was staring straight back at him, her face expressionless. But then, quite suddenly and to the horror of Hamilton, she broke into a smile. A smile of pure.. Love?

"Alexander.." The ghost whispered. Her voice sounded like it was echoing over herself repeatedly, giving it a melancholy effect.

Hamilton couldn't move. Was this a curse? Were the dead out to get him now? On Christmas?

Then he remembered Washington's words. His voice spoke in his mind again: "Prepare yourself, Alexander. They are coming." He had said.

He could see the woman reaching her hand out towards his face, and yet, even with the knowledge of the warning, he still he couldn't move. He took in a shuddering breath, then closed his eyes tightly so he could avoid seeing what would happen.

But all he felt was a gentle, soft hand on his cheek, as the woman carrassed it gently.

Hamilton opened his eyes again. She was still there, of course, and now she was touching him. He held his hand up to her hand, the strange texture almost making him recoil. Somehow, Washington had felt.. Different.

He stared at the woman's eyes. "Who.. Who are you?" He finally choked out, afraid of the answer. A memory was at the back of his head, screaming to be heard.

He saw the woman swallow. She looked a little hurt. "It's me, Alexander." She whispered, floating through the bed to get closer to him. He leaned backwards as she came even closer to him, then she wrapped him in a tight embrace.

Suddenly, Hamilton realized who this was, and he gasped, his fear melting away immediately. Slowly, tentatively, he put his trembling arms around the ghostly form of—

"Mother.." Hamilton sobbed, pulling her closer to himself.

He felt his mother tighten her grip on him in reply, and felt as if he could float. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, like he would never let go, and he could feel himself floating up higher, until they collided with the ceiling of the room.

His mother then pulled away and held him up for her too see. Somehow, she could lift him quite easily as she observed him from all angles.

"You've grown well." She smiled in satisfaction, until her expression turned serious. "Although yet you still seem to have a problem."

Hamilton looked down at the far away floor and squirmed in his mother's grip. "What do you mean?"

She seemed to notice how uncomfortable he was in the air. She set him down, then sighed. "I have been sent to be your Christmas spirit of the past." She sighed, straightening his clothes. "It's.. Not a job I'd usually take, but it was for you."

"What do you mean?" A puzzled Hamilton repeated, following her to the window. He stared down at the cold, snowy ground with apprehension.

She sighed again, turning to him. "The spirits have seen you acting in a way that would surely lead you to your doom." She said sadly, pulling a loose strand of Hamilton's long hair behind his ear. Hamilton remembered Washington had said the same thing, and he nodded slowly.

"They knew if you continued this way, you would for sure..." Then she stopped.

"For sure what?" Hamilton asked, sounding suddenly anxious.

"I can't say. It's not my place. You will find out yourself soon enough, though." She shook her head. "But it's time you made a change, Alexander."

"A change?" Hamilton asked, unintentionally snorting in disbelief. "Why does everyone always think there's something wrong with me?"

His mother gave him a look. "Do you honestly think catching beef with every man and woman you meet, then pushing your family away, is right?"

Hamilton stopped, then frowned. "How did you know about that?"

His mother sighed through her nose patiently. "I would have thought you already knew, with Washington knowing as well, and all. We've been watching you, Alexander, and I admit I have been disappointed on a few occasions." She stared down at her hands. "You were so different when you were a child."

Hamilton grit his teeth and turned away, crossing his arms. He shivered against the cold gust of as the cold wind swirled in.

His mother perked up when it came. "It is time." She whispered, her eyes sparkling.

"Time for what?" Hamilton asked, gripping the window anxiously. He wondered for a moment if he was dreaming, but he couldn't recall a dream that felt so real.

"Come with me." She commanded gently, ignoring his question and instead taking his hand.

Hamilton stared at his alive, fleshy hand sitting in her pale, ghostly one. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see." She smiled, then jumped out the window.

Hamilton yelled in shock as he saw the ground come closer with every second, and he closed his eyes, waiting for the impact.

When it didn't come, he slowly peeked through his eyelids to see that he and his mother were flying. Flying over the streets of New York. Over all the buildings and houses; the gardens and the shops. The Christmas candles all shone brightly, making the ground look like a white, starry sky. The cold wind blew behind them, urging them forward. Hamilton (who felt that all the logic in the world had all inadvertently turned against him), expected the cold to seep into his skin immediately, but his mother's touch seemed to be keeping him inexplicably warm.

Then, almost as sudden as it had began, the flight was over. They touched down on a poorly cared for lawn. They were now standing in front of a house that seemed quite familiar.

Hamilton looked around them, a little disoriented by the alarmingly sudden change of scenery. There was no longer any snow, and it seemed that they were no longer in New York, either.

Hamilton vaguely registered his mother attempting to wave him over to the house, but Hamilton had suddenly gone stock-still as he realized where he was.

This was in Nevis, in the Caribbean. This was where he was born. This was where he grew up.

This was his _home_.

Hamilton gasped involuntarily as he saw a small child dancing near the window. Was that James Jr? His brother?

His mother waved him over again, and Hamilton, in a daze, stumbled forward to where she was standing.

They stared into the small house through one of the windows. Everything was so familiar; That wine stained carpet, the old, sooty fireplace, the worn out couches...

Hamilton's attention then shifted to his brother, who must have been at least nine at this time. He was yelling and jumping and dancing around like a madman. His mother was trying to get him to stop and stay still.

Hamilton's mother chuckled, and even Hamilton managed a small smile.

Then suddenly, an even smaller boy dashed out of a room, being pursued by a man who was trying to catch him. They were laughing, and Hamilton's mother (From the past) clicked her tongue disapprovingly, albeit with a small smile on her face.

Hamilton blanched at seeing himself playing with.. His father; James Hamilton Sr.

Hamilton took a step backwards and, in a shuddering voice, breathed, "Father.."

He felt a sob stick itself at the back of his throat as he watched his father sweep him up into the air, pulling his shirt up to blow a loud raspberry on his stomach. Eight year old Hamilton burst out laughing and desperately tried to get away.

The grown up Hamilton gripped the windoframe and stared at the scene unfolding. He blinked back tears.

His ghostly mother put her hand on his shoulder. "My dear Alexander; my son, you were so happy before. What happened?"

Hamilton couldn't look at her. He took a deep breath and stared inside the house again, where he saw his younger counterpart pick up a fallen ornament from a small, makeshift tree. His father handed him a star, then carried him onto his shoulders. Young Hamilton placed the star on the top, and his brother and mother clapped for him.

His father put him down, and Hamilton hugged him tightly. Then he ran off to play with his brother.

"We couldn't afford presents that year." Hamilton's mother whispered beside him, slipping her hand into his again. "But it was the best Christmas we ever had."

Hamilton looked down at their hands and smiled, tightening his grip. "It was."

He looked up again, and saw his father and mother come in from the kitchen holding a small platter of chicken and some fruits, with a basket of bread and cups of cocoa.

Mother and son watched through the window as the Hamilton family sat around the fireplace and ate, laughing and teasing each other boisterously. Hamilton's father and mother kissed each other, and James Jr. made a face, while Hamilton snickered. Their parents then pulled away and tackled their children. The two brothers cried out and tried to scramble away, but their parents were too quick, and they pulled them both into a group hug.

Hamilton felt the tears that he had desperately been attempting to restrain come out. He felt his mother embrace him, and, slowly, as if in a daze, he embraced her back. He felt himself begin to cry harder, and he heard his mother say, in the midst of all the tears, "Remember."


	3. Presently Indecent Enough

Hamilton sat up suddenly. He blinked and looked around himself. His mother was gone.

Hamilton clutched the blanket and stared down at his white knuckles, his breathing slightly erratic. Had it all been but a mere dream?

His attention was turned to the window. The shutters were wide open. He stared warily at it, then, hesitantly, stood and pulled it shut. He locked it for good measure, then slid the curtain across it.

Hamilton let out a breath and turned around, and—

He gasped. He took several steps backwards in fright.

A man was standing there. A man with a bloodstain on his chest.

Another ghost.

Hamilton stared, stupefied, at him. Then he made his mouth work. "Y-you.."

The man beamed at him. "Nice to see you again, Alexander."

Hamilton broke into a wide smile. "John."

Then he embraced his best friend.

John Laurens hugged him back, grinning ear to ear. When they pulled away, Hamilton looked him up and down. "Are.. You dead, too?"

Laurens looked at his bloodstained tunic and chuckled. "Yes. I'm glad you're smart enough to know that the other two appearances weren't dreams, either."

Hamilton smirked. Then it dropped off his face. "So.. I'm assuming you're here to 'Teach me a lesson', too?"

Laurens gave him a grimace. "Yes. The spirits chose me to be your spirit of Christmas present, or otherwise known as what's going to happen tomorrow."

"Happen if I what?" Hamilton asked, frowning defiantly.

"If you keep acting the way you are." Laurens let out a slow breath. "Alex, We've seen you acting in a way that would surely lead to your doom. You have to stop this. Stop fighting everyone, and just take a break and spend time with your family."

Hamilton rolled his eyes involuntarily. "My dear friend, I'm sure you know fairly well that I am merely trying to—"

"I know." Laurens cut him off. He raised an eyebrow. "But is that really more important than the relationship you have with your family and friends? Even your cohorts?"

Hamilton was stricken into silence. He did not need to ask to know who those "Cohorts" were. But why would having a good relationship with them do him any good? And as for his family, it wasn't _his_ fault he was so busy.

Was it?

Laurens sighed. "Come, my friend." He said, opening the door.

Hamilton looked back at the sleeping form of Eliza, who seemed quite oblivious to all this. He turned back to his friend and nodded uncertainly. Together, they walked through the doorframe.

And suddenly, they were transported to the outside of his house. Hamilton blinked, but could not find Laurens. He looked around him, turning around in an almost complete circle, and found Laurens floating in a sitting position while looking inside the house through the window.

Laurens beckoned his friend over, and Hamilton came to his side. He peered through the window and saw his friends and family milling about, drinking wine and eating some snacks. His children were talking with their cousins and two other children.

Hamilton looked around. "Where am I?"

Before Laurens could reply, they saw Dolly Madison come to Eliza and ask the exact same thing. "Where_ is_ your husband, Elizabeth?"

Eliza looked flustered, then upset. She said, "He is upstairs, working."

Nearby, Hamilton and Laurens saw Jefferson, Burr, and Madison look at each other. Hamilton watched as Jefferson sipped from a wine glass to say, "My, my. Hamilton can't even have the decency to entertain his guests."

"Please do not start this here." Madison chastised, looking annoyed.

"He's right, Thomas. Besides, Eliza is the one who threw this party, not him."

Jefferson pursed his lips. "Fine, you're right. I just wish Hamilton understood the importance of all this."

Madison nodded sadly, taking a moment to cough into his handkerchief. "Indeed. He's already lost one of his children, yet it still hasn't wavered his thoughts."

"And what's worse," Burr cut in, taking a slice of cheese from the table. "He's been going on about death being undeniably close, yet he still wastes his precious time on this earth working and not enjoying life and family while he has it!"

Jefferson made a grim face, and Madison sighed.

"He is a blessed man, I have to admit it." Jefferson muttered, looking at Eliza, then at his children. "But he cannot seem to take time to count them."

Hamilton glowered at them through the glass. He ground his teeth. "Oh, how dare they." He scowled, his fingers itching to strangle them all on the spot.

Laurens turned to look at him in agitation. "Alexander, stop letting your pride blind you and _think about it_. Do you really think they're wrong?"

Hamilton stared at his friend with a wounded expression. "John, you don't understand, they-"

"I do understand, Alex, I've been watching you." Laurens sighed and ran his hand over his face. "They aren't always trying to fight you. In fact, they've even tried to be _civil_ with you on some occasions!"

Hamilton fell silent. He turned to look at Jefferson, Madison, and Burr. His sworn political rivals. Trying to be civil? What a ridiculous notion! But..

"Are you pulling my leg?" Hamilton demanded weakly. "It doesn't sound like them."

"But it is." Laurens insisted, looking at them. "But it's almost too late. They've almost completely given up trying."

Hamilton scratched the back of his neck and muttered, "I.. I didn't know.."

Laurens sighed. "Oh Alex, you really have no idea how not knowing may just end your life."


	4. The Fruits Of Your Choices

Hamilton sat up abruptly. He was in bed.. Again.

Hamilton clutched his head and whispered, "Oh, what have I done?"

"What have you done indeed."

Hamilton fell out of his bed as he heard the voice, and his foot got tangled in the covers. He looked around at the upside down room and tugged at his leg uselessly.

Hamilton glanced around wearily. "Who.. Who are you, now?"

Hamilton felt his leg come free of the cover, and he fell. He sat up to see who helped him, and saw—

Philip smirked at him and bent down to look him in the face. "Hello, father."

Hamilton's breath caught in his throat, and he gasped, "Philip..."

Philip beamed, and Hamilton grabbed him in an embrace.

"Philip.. My son.." Hamilton took in a shuddering breath. "I'm so sorry.."

Philip pulled him closer. "I don't blame you, father. Even if you were the one who gave me that terrible advice." He chuckled.

Hamilton winced and pulled away. He looked his eldest son in the face. "Forgive me.." He faltered, looking away in shame.

A cold hand gripped his shoulder. "I forgave you a long time ago."

Hamilton felt the hot tears behind his eyes. One drop escaped and slid down his face, and Philip wiped it away, smiling. "Do not despair, father. I've come to make sure you don't make the same mistake I did."

Hamilton paused. He stared at him in apprehension. "What do you mean?"

Philip stood, then pulled him to his feet. "Father, you've been acting in a way that would surely lead to your doom."

Hamilton, in spite of himself, chuckled. "So I've heard."

Philip laughed. Then his face turned serious. "But it is true."

Hamilton looked down ashamedly and muttered, "I know." He looked down at his son's wounded ribcage. He shivered, then asked, "So you are my spirit of the Christmas future?"

Philip pursed his lips in a way that looked very much like Eliza. "I'm afraid not. I'm merely your spirit of the future."

Hamilton frowned confusedly.

Philip sighed, then took his father's hand. The room around them suddenly faded away, and now they were standing in Weehawken, New Jersey.

Hamilton frowned and turned to his son. "Why are we here?"

Philip gave him a sad look and pointed.

What Hamilton saw made him stop.

There he was, standing with a gun in hand. Then there was Burr, standing at the opposite side of him with his own pistol. Burr's face looked angry, while the future Hamilton's looked.. Resigned.

Hamilton felt Philip clutch his hand tighter.

The future Hamilton stared Burr in the eyes, then slowly, he raised the pistol and pointed it at the sky. He closed his eyes, then fired.

At that exact moment, he tumbled backwards and fell, crying out. His tunic was suddenly becoming a dark shade of red.

Hamilton turned sharply towards the future Burr, who froze with his eyes wide. He looked at the gun in his hand, then back at his former friend. He dropped the pistol and rushed forward. He yelled, "No!"

The future Hamilton grasped at his wound weakly, his breathing labored. The physician suddenly came to his side, and Hamilton was carried off.

Burr was still yelling. "Hamilton, no!" while his second tried to drag him away, crying, "There's nothing you can do for him now, Burr, we have to go!"

Burr stared for a long moment at where his former friend had been carried: Onto a boat headed for New York. Burr whispered, "I'm sorry, Alexander.."

Then they ran off, coat-tails flying.

"This is why I can't bring you to your future Christmas, father." Philip said sadly, looking down at the ground and biting his cheek. "You never made it to another."

Hamilton gaped at the retreating back of Burr, shaking his head slowly. "No, no.. This can't be! Philip, please, I never meant for this to happen!"

Philip shook his head and let his father's hand go. "But it is the fruit of your choices, father. Your terrible, terrible choices."

Hamilton reached out to him and yelled, "Philip! Please! Tell me this can be changed! I'll change, please! I'll do anything! I can't die this way!"

Philip began to fade away, and Hamilton's hand missed his fading son's hand by inches. It disappeared completely, and Philip said, "Goodbye, father. Give my regards to my mother and siblings."

Hamilton reached for his son once again, but to no avail. "Philip! Don't leave me!"

And suddenly he was falling, falling... And the world faded into nothingness.


	5. One Last Chance

Hamilton cried out in horror. He tumbled out of his bed. The sun was filtering through the curtains.

Hamilton clutched his head and desperately willed his breathing to slow down. Burr, no...

Hamilton clenched his fists, all but tearing his hair out.

Then suddenly, a hand was grasping his, and a kind, worried voice said, "Alexander? What's wrong?"

Hamilton looked up and saw Eliza staring at him with visible worry. She pulled him up, and he stood and sat down beside her. "Eliza.." He whispered, tearing up. He grabbed his wife around the shoulders and pulled her close to him.

Eliza seemed extremely surprised about the embrace, but she returned it. They were completely silent, except for the occasional sobs from Alexander.

"Alexander, did you have a nightmare?" Eliza asked, pulling away and looking him all over to see if he had hurt himself from the fall.

Hamilton shook his head and winced, remembering. "No.. I.."

Then his attention shifted to the window, and his eyes widened. "Eliza.."

His mouth began to break into a huge grin, and Hamilton grabbed Eliza's hands and cried, "Eliza! I still have a chance!"

He leaped out of bed, covers flying, and grabbed his coat. He pulled it on hurriedly, and Eliza stared in surprise for a few moments before assisting him.

"A chance for what?" Eliza asked, bewildered. She tied his hair and frowned at him.

"No time to explain! I have so much work to do!" Hamilton yelled boisterously, his grin wide. He grabbed his wallet and stuffed it into his satchel.

"But, Alexander, the party—" Eliza said, buttoning his sleeves.

"Just go and prepare it! I'll be back in a few minutes, just tell the children to get ready!" Then, quite suddenly, he grabbed his wife's shoulders and kissed her full on the lips quickly. Then he pulled away and dashed out of the room, leaving Eliza stunned into silence.

Hamilton rushed out of the house, passing his startled children. They watched him run in silent bewilderment.

Hamilton ran through the snow and staggered slightly, but did not stop. His heart felt so light—so much lighter than it had felt in years, in fact.

Oh, now he knew. He knew now what he had to do.

* * *

Hamilton promptly returned with both his arms and satchel full. He laughed at Eliza's stunned face and said, "Don't tell the children."

Eliza nodded and broke into a grin.

For the rest of the afternoon, Hamilton, Eliza, and the children prepared for the party. To the amazement of everyone, Hamilton joined them eagerly in laughing with them, teasing them, and joking with them while they cooked and decorated.

Hamilton could see that his children and wife were taken aback and almost concerned by his sudden change, and it somehow made him ridiculously happier. He promised himself that he would tell them about his adventures soon.

Wait for it, he told himself with a small smile. Let them keep the magic of the moment for a while longer.

As Hamilton finished helping his tween son, Alexander Jr, finish organizing the snacks on the table, his eye caught on a paper on the ground. He bent down and picked it up, then glanced down at it to see a list of people's names written down.

"What is this?" Hamilton asked, running down the list with his eyes.

"It's the list of guests we're going to have tonight." Eliza said, helping her small sons John and James fix the plates.

"Why, Eliza, you really are quite the party planner." Hamilton's eyes twinkled to say. "I've never heard of a guest list for a simple house party."

Eliza shook her head and giggled.

Hamilton turned his eyes back to the list and read it through. He saw the names,

"Father and Mother

Angelica Church and her family

Philip Schuyler Jr. and his family.."

And so on, including some names he wasn't sure he knew but assumed were some friends of Eliza. All in all, about eight groups of people.

When Hamilton finally reached the bottom of the list (Where Jefferson's, Madisons', and Burr's names were hastily scrawled), he found that he felt someone was missing.

Hamilton furrowed his eyebrows and thought carefully. Eliza saw him and asked, "Is.. Is it Jefferson, Madison, and Burr?"

Hamilton hummed, "What? No. They're fine. I just.. Feel like we've forgotten someone."

Eliza seemed slightly taken aback by how calm her husband was about the fact that his political rivals were on the list, but he didn't seem to notice.

Then, his eyes widened, and he snapped his fingers. "Hercules."

Eliza looked up. "Of course! How could I forget?"

Hamilton grabbed a quill and parchment from the nearby drawer. He ran to the dining room and began to write the invitation as quickly as possible.

Eliza peered over his shoulder and said, "But Alexander, how will we send it to him? We barely have enough time!"

Hamilton finished signing his name and set it down to dry. He smirked at her. "Perhaps I could ask one of the street children for help. They'd do anything for a bit of money."

The moment the ink had dryed, he rolled it up. He ran out and hurried to the nearest kid and said, "Son, do you know where Hercules Mulligan lives?"

The boy looked up at him, taken aback, then bobbed his head.

Hamilton nodded. "Good. If you agree, I will pay you five dollars to deliver this letter to him."

The boy's eyes shone, and he nodded eagerly. Hamilton handed him the letter, and the boy was off at an amazing speed, crying, "Thank you, sir! Merry Christmas!"


	6. Changed

The house was full of chatter and laughter. Hamilton helped Eliza serve the guests unashamedly, and he even handed out all of the wine glasses and poured the wine. He was feeling extremely elated, and he did not care for the looks of shock from his guests.

When everyone had settled down, Hamilton ran up the stairs. He could feel Eliza's eyes on the back of his neck as he climbed, and he smiled to himself.

When he came back down, he was lugging a bag full of things no one could identify. He went to his children, who were milling with their cousins and the children of the other guests.

He nodded at Angelica (His daughter) and asked her to help him hold the bag, then he produced gifts for all of them. Alexander Jr. got a ship model, Angelica got a bracelet, Fanny got a set of earrings, John got a ball, James got a wooden horse, and young William got a stuffed bear. They all gasped and giggled, and simultaneously they all cried, "Thank you so much, father!"

Then he turned to his nephews and nieces and gave them toys and jewelry, too, to the sounds of "Thank you, uncle Alexander!"

Then he noticed Theodosia Burr (Burr's daughter) and Martha Jefferson (Jefferson's daughter) watching them, and he smiled at them. "Don't worry." He said, handing them both a small ring each. "I had some backup." and he winked, and they stared up at him with shining eyes.

As Hamilton went around giving his last minute gifts (To the guests he did not know that well, he had candles), Eliza, who looked surprised yet again, asked, "But when did you get these?"

Hamilton smiled deviously. "This morning."

He handed his sister and brother in law matching bracelets. They looked up at him and grinned, and Angelica said, "I don't know what came over you, but I am delighted it happened."

After giving Eliza's father a fancy quill, and her mother some earrings, he put the bag down. He grasped Eliza's hand and pulled her towards him, and whispered, "Close your eyes."

She looked into his excited eyes and did as she was told. Hamilton took out a small box and pulled out the necklace within, and he hung it around his wife's neck.

Eliza opened her eyes and looked down, and her eyes shone. "Alexander, it's beautiful!"

She held it in her palm and observed its intricate patterns. Metal vines and flowers circled a small glass compartment, and inside was a few strands of her husband's auburn hair.

Hamilton felt himself grow warm when she looked up at him with such awe on her face. "I do hope that whenever you wear it, you feel as if I am always with you." And he took her hands in his and whispered, "Because I always will, my Eliza."

Eliza looked up into his eyes, then kissed him.

He smiled and kissed her back.

Some people around them giggled, and on one occasion whistled teasingly, but the couple did not care.

When they finally pulled away, Eliza said, "I love you."

Hamilton broke into a wide grin and kissed her cheek. "I love you, too."

He gently turned away back to his bag to retrieve the last few gifts he had in there, which were three, heavy books. He gripped them tightly and held them behind his back as he scanned the crowd.

Then he spotted them.

He made his way through through the bustle of guests. He felt himself become nervous as he neared them. He swallowed and continued on, until finally he was face to face with Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and Aaron Burr.

Dolly Madison, who had been talking to her husband quietly, looked at Hamilton and smiled, saying, "Thank you for the candle." Then left them alone.

Hamilton, who found his eyes were glued to the floor, could feel the three staring at him. It was as if they were unsure of what to do. Finally, Madison coughed politely and said, "Merry Christmas, Alexander."

Hamilton looked up at him gratefully and said, "Merry Christmas, James."

He looked the other two in the eye, then boldy said, "Merry Christmas, Thomas and Aaron."

They returned the greeting with mumbles and forced smiles, looking on at him awkwardly.

Hamilton took a deep breath and picked one of the books from behind him. "I, er, have something for you."

Their eyes widened in unison, and they looked at each other in shock while Hamilton added, "I didn't have time to wrap it, but I.. Hope you like it."

He held up the first book he grabbed, which happened to be "_The Odyssey_". He handed it to Madison, who gave him a look of utter surprise and pleasure. He blinked at Hamilton, who was watching him, then said, "Thank you." He smiled at the cover. "I.. Have been wanting this for a while."

Hamilton gave a small smirk. "Well, that was quite coincidental and fortunate."

The four of them chuckled. It felt strange, to be laughing together. It was apparent they also felt the same, but Hamilton could tell they were beginning to relax. He beamed, then held up the second book, which was titled, "_The Tempest_".

Jefferson's eyes widened when he saw it, and Hamilton grinned at his reaction. "I know you are quite fond of Shakespeare, but I really wasn't sure whether you had this already or not."

Jefferson took it slowly, and a grin spread over his face. "I- I don't, actually." He stammered. He shook his head in disbelief. "I've been looking for this for ages!" He beamed, opening it and flipping through the pages. He looked up at Hamilton, and he said sincerely, "Thank you, Alexander."

Hamilton grinned. "You're welcome."

Then he held up the final book, which was titled, "_Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral_" by an African woman named Phillis Wheatley. Hamilton handed it to Burr, who looked quite intrigued. "A book of poems.." He murmured, something tugging at the corners of his lips. He looked up at Hamilton, and he smiled at him, and Hamilton smiled back, both completely silent. He did not have to say thank you; It was already apparent.

The men heartily enjoyed the party then. They talked and joked with each other, and had a good time. They even had a game of chess and teamed up: Hamilton and Burr against Jefferson and Madison. It was a close call, but Jefferson and Madison won the first round.

Hamilton did not get upset; Far from it. When Burr and Hamilton saw that the two killed their king, Hamilton merely tilted it to its side and said, "You were lucky this time."

Then they switched teams, and this time, Hamilton and Jefferson won. Hamilton looked at his team mate and said, "Why, we aren't so bad as a team after all." Which gained chuckles. Hamilton smirked at his former ally and Burr returned the look, then they all laughed.

Then suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

The chattering of conversation ceased slightly. Hamilton stood up from his fourth round of chest, where Madison was now his teammate. He opened the door and saw the face of a man he hadn't seen in a long time.

Hamilton broke into a grin, and the man said, "I do hope I'm not too late for the party."

Hamilton laughed and shook his head, pulling his friend in from the cold. "Oh Hercules, you're just in time."

Burr stood up and greeted him, their game of chess forgotten. And so did everyone else, shaking his hand and welcoming him warmly. Hamilton introduced him to the people who did not know him yet, then he ushered his friend to the snack table.

"Wait here." Hamilton said, running back up to his study. He went to his drawer and took out the pocketwatch Mulligan had left behind when they last met, and hurried down. He took the last candle from his bag as well, then he held it out to him.

Mulligan chuckled and took the candle gratefully, then widened his eyes at the pocketwatch. "You found it." he said, taking it and giving Hamilton an awed grin.

Hamilton laughed. "Ever since you left it in your tent during the war, I held onto it. I didn't realize it would be so long until we met again."

Mulligan opened it. It was still ticking, and he looked up at Hamilton, then back down at the pocketwatch. Then he closed it and put it back into his friend's hand. "You know what? I want you to keep it."

Hamilton's eyes widened, and he looked down at the beautiful watch with surprise. "But— are you sure? You loved it!"

Mulligan smiled and nodded. "I want this to symbolize our friendship. You kept it even if you had no idea when we would next meet—I never asked you to do that. But you did it anyway."

Hamilton stared at him silently for a moment, then put it into his pocket and said, "Well, what are friends for?"

Mulligan clapped him on the back happily, and they joined Burr, Jefferson, and Madison once again.

* * *

When the night had lengthened greatly, so much that the hour hand had reached three o'clock in the morning, the guests finally realized the time and began to disperse.

"Hope to see you again soon, Alexander." Mulligan had said as he waved.

Hamilton had waved back. "Don't worry, we will."

The Schuylers all embraced and kissed him and his family goodbye, and Angelica whispered into Hamilton's ear, "Congratulations." Though he really did not know why. And his confusion only heightened when Eliza gave her sister a suspicious look.

Then as Jefferson, Madison, and Burr left, Jefferson yelled, "Alexander, what would you say to all of us meeting up again sometime? Outside of a cabinet meeting, of course."

Madison and Burr looked expectantly at Hamilton, and he smirked. "I think that would be fun."

The rest thanked the Hamiltons greatly for their service (And the candles), then hurried on home to their families. Finally, they were all gone.

Hamilton closed the door and sighed in relief. The house was quite messy, but he didn't mind. It would be cleaned up soon enough, and he could help his housekeeper clean it. He realized that it was a little unfair for her to have to clean _everything_ all the time, even if it was her job.

He gathered some dropped foods with his foot into a pile and noticed a pile of presents in the corner, under the tree. They had the names of his wife, children, and himself upon them. He eyed them and smiled, then he saw, at the top of a wooden box, three ten dollar bills, with a smooth stone holding them down. There were no names, but Hamilton knew who it was from. He could almost imagine Burr, Jefferson, and Madison all hurrying give him anything he could after what he did.

He helped his wife and children gather the dirty dishes and glasses, then, after agreeing to leaving the presents the guests had left them for tomorrow, they went up to their rooms.

But before Hamilton could, Eliza stopped him and grabbed his arms.

"Alexander, I've been meaning to tell you." She began, looking up at him with bright eyes. "I.. Don't have a present to give you, but—"

"It's okay—" Hamilton already began to say, but his wife held a single finger up to his lips and shushed him.

She smiled and looked down at her stomach, then gently placed her hand on top of it. Hamilton stared at her, then at her stomach, and he almost cried as he gasped, "Oh, Eliza.." And he kissed her.

Afterwards, the couple thought the night was finally over, but while Hamilton and Eliza were getting ready to lay down in bed, their children came in with a rolled up parchment. They smiled at their surprised parents, then gave the parchment to them. They sat beside their parents as they read the letter (Of which its contents stayed a mystery to everyone outside of the Hamilton family, even up to now).

Then Hamilton and Eliza all kissed their children goodnight. They smiled at them and turned to leave.

Hamilton looked around at the bed and thought about everything that had happened to him the other night, and suddenly, he knew that now was the time to share it. He called his children back, beckoning then towards the bed. They grinned excitedly as they joined their parents.

Hamilton looked at his wife then at his children, and began, "Do you want to know what happened to me?" He asked silently.

They all glanced at each other and nodded.

Hamilton smiled, pulling Eliza towards himself so she could lean against him, then he began his tale.

Hamilton could feel the eyes of the spirits on him now, and he could tell they were smiling. Somehow, it did not feel like such a bad thing knowing history has its eyes on you: In fact, it felt like a blessing.


	7. Epilogue

And you will be glad to know, dear reader, that Hamilton was, from then on, one of the most loving fathers and husbands anyone ever knew.

His shame became much less, as he finally grasped that it was not his fault he was born out of wedlock, and whenever anyone mocked him for it, he would point it out in such a manner that soon people just stopped. He also got along quite well with his former political rivals afterwards, and did not waste time with the people he already called friends.

Hamilton lived to a ripe old age, having prevented his fateful duel with Burr, and his story was told every Christmas in the Hamilton family for generations, and continues to do so up to now.

Somehow, it reached a young man, who had been staying in an inn while Hamilton's descendants told the story once again. The young man found the story intriguing, and he used the concept for his own, original story. That story soon became known as a Christmas Carol.

And what a Christmas Carol it was.


End file.
